By Light of Star
by QianXuan
Summary: Under the cloak of night lurks a mysterious stalker. With the police foiled at every turn, can the new kid in school provide the key in time? Or is there more to the case than meets the eye?
1. New

**By Light of Star**

_QianXuan_

* * *

"Orororororo."

"Kenshin! Were you even listening?"

Blinking rapidly to settle his eyeballs back into their sockets, Kenshin turned and sighed at his kid sister. There had to be a less painful way to get his attention. "No."

Misao sagged and banged her forehead on Kenshin's collar bone. "Never mind. I was just trying to tell you not to space out on me." She gestured expressively at the gates of their new school, towering grey and forbidding above their heads. "Not here, not now."

Straightening his uniform again, Kenshin gave her a small smile. "Yes, fine. Shall we go? School awaits." And so, as the huge clock mounted near the top of the school building struck eight, the pair stepped into their first, fateful day of school.

"Whoa—FORE!"

Misao jumped out of the way. Kenshin was bowled down in the grass by a bony, screaming cannonball. "Oof."

What in the world…he frowned and willed his vision to stop swimming. He had lived with a human cannonball all his life, but the girl was standing right there. And she seemed to be laughing. Kenshin directed a flat stare at his sister and turned his attention to the boy sitting on his chest.

The brown eyes under the spiky brown hair looked annoyed, of all things. The boy was small, quite a bit slighter than even Misao; neither of the siblings had been anywhere near average-sized, themselves. As he jumped off, he gave a long grunt of exasperation. "It's eight, chum. Eight o'clock. At eight o'clock, nobody walks through the gates if they don't want to get thumped. You're new, aren't you?"

"Yes," replied Kenshin, rolling over and dusting himself off. "And yes, I do accept your sincerest apology."

The kid arched an eyebrow at him. "Not my fault that you're new."

Kenshin looked at his sister. "Why does he sound so much like you?" Misao shrugged; she looked intrigued.

"'sides, it wasn't me. _He_ did it."

Following the path of the kid's finger, Kenshin found himself looking at a huge, waving, grinning rooster. A huge, waving, grinning rooster that was headed his way. Ah, wait a second—it was a man. He squinted; yes, a man with a rooster's head.

"Chicken-head did it?" Misao frowned. Then she broke into the toothy, dangerously hyperactive grin that he knew so well. "He _threw_ you? Cool."

"The name, dear _weasel_, is Rooster-head. _Rooster_-head." The rooster-man swaggered to a stop beside Ken, and easily rested his elbow atop Ken's red mop. "Sagara Sanosuke at your service, my lady. And you too, o'course." He patted Kenshin. Kenshin smiled brightly, and backed away.

"Yeah, and I'm Yahiko. Who're you guys?" The kid, unfortunately, decided to stick an elbow into Misao's ribs. Misao smoothly brought hers down on his head. Hard. "Misao. My name is Misao. This here red-head is my brother, Kenshin. Anything else you'd like to know, Yahiko-chan?"

"Hey, drop the 'chan'!"

"Not my fault you're a kid." Misao stuck her tongue out at him, and then rounded on Sanosuke with The Grin. "Can you throw me? Please?"

"Good lord. Misao! We need to find the office, remember?" Kenshin made a desperate attempt to drag his sister towards the building.

Sanosuke produced a short, battered baton from nowhere and gave Yahiko a poke. "The office, officer! You heard him! Forward, march!" And they marched. Sanosuke glanced back with a sign to follow.

Kenshin started to smile, shake his head and make a dash for the gates. Misao grabbed hold of his collar and jogged after the two. "Orororororo…"

* * *

Three minutes later, he was squirming in one of the wooden, straight-backed chairs in the waiting room of the principal's office. Beside him, Misao was almost bouncing. Another chair away, the two psychotics arm-wrestled. Kenshin buried his face in his satchel; he knew this wasn't such a good idea.

Presently, a bell tinkled, and the door-lock clicked open. "Come."

A darkly clad figure sat in the leather armchair behind the large, carved table, writing in a big notebook with quick, firm strokes. He was obviously tall, even seated, and straight, narrow shoulders added to the lean look. Without raising his immaculately combed head, he said, "Seat yourselves." Kenshin shivered a little and seated himself. Misao did the same.

The hand paused and laid down the pen, while the eyes gave the writing a last, appraising look. The hand returned and closed the book, and then lifted to remove the fine, silver-framed glasses from the face. Finally, the slanted, amber eyes rested on the two before him. Kenshin suddenly felt tiny.

"Himura Kenshin, and Misao. Siblings. Seventeen, and fourteen. Requiring lodgings. Correct?" The principal's voice was smooth and calm, and unnerving. With a subdued glance from Misao, Kenshin nodded.

"Good." The man paused to straighten the plaque in front of his desk. "Welcome to White Hart High. My name is Saitou Hajime."

* * *

"We," Sanosuke announced, "are here."

Kenshin and Misao had been directed to the dormitories, with, regrettably, the same two psychotics as their guides. Now, two crisply white buildings stood on either side of the group, the right and left marked with a blue and pink band respectively: the boys'; and the girls'.

Misao fidgeted slightly under her brother's anxious glance. Kenshin looked all around. "Where is her guide? Shouldn't she be here by now?"

"Relax, chum. Kamiya Kaoru is a busy girl. Give her a little time, eh?"

Kamiya Kaoru. Kenshin was quite certain he had never heard that name before, but somehow, just repeating it under his breath left his throat dry. It was a bad sign, very bad; he had learned to trust his instincts, in instances like this. He cast another searching look around him, this time more worried than impatient.

_There._

There? There's noth—

_There. Behind the bush. _

"Good lord," he whispered. There, behind the bush, something was lying on the ground. At that distance he couldn't tell what it was, but he could guess. "Yahiko-chan, I think she was here before us."

"Drop the—oh. Oh."

Her deep blue suit had been soaked through with blood, as had her dark ponytail. Kenshin vaguely noticed her black baseball cap lying in the brush nearby. He knelt down beside the motionless body lying face-down in the grass, fingers searching for a pulse—it was there. Weak, but there. He heaved a sigh of relief. "Yes, she's alive. But she won't be for long, the blood's still flowing." The rest of the group stared at him. "Get help, for goodness sake!"

Both Misao and Yahiko dashed off, back up the way they came. Sanosuke dropped to his knees beside Kaoru. "Not serious, I don't think," he muttered, gently prodding her neck and back. "Her spine is fine, so I think we can turn her over. Give me a hand?"

A deep gash ran diagonally across her forehead, ending just inside the hairline. Her hands were grazed, but that was about all. But blood was still oozing through the cut. "Barely five minutes ago, I'd say." Kenshin's voice lowered to a murmur, as if thinking aloud. "She's breathing normally, so that's alright. I think—"

"Out of my way, kid. What have you done with her? You kids!" In one deft motion, the newcomer swept her long, thick hair into a knot. "Don't you know not to move an injured patient?"

"School nurse," muttered Sanosuke, scratching his ear. "Bossy old hag. But _here_ comes the trouble."

Yahiko and Misao were hanging back, trying to catch a peek of the scene from behind a sleek, finely-cut black coat. Saitou-san stood with his glasses hanging loosely from one hand, taking in the commotion with unnatural calm. A moment later his lips pursed thinly, and he shifted his attention to the four. "The events here will not go beyond the seven people present at this moment," he stated softly, "with no exceptions whatsoever. You will now join me in the office, and you will see why."

* * *

**Author's note: **First fic : ) Be kind, review! Sankyu...


	2. Himura Kenshin?

**II

* * *

**

They looked so…innocent. Saitou studied them from behind his desk and steepled fingers, and suddenly found himself wishing he didn't need to bring the kids into this. _Bodies sunk out at sea are almost never recovered,_ he thought wryly. Kaoru's case had long been decided; he couldn't help that now. Besides, Kaoru, he could trust. But these…ragtag…one wrong step could bring years of meticulous work crumbling about his ears. And he could see whole miles of wrong steps ahead of them.

"White Hart High," he began carefully, "in fact, the whole of Hart City is not as simple as it seems. For many years now, it has been the base of various underground organisations, both respectable and not. White Hart is a centre, a headquarters, the heart of the danger, and yet the most secure sanctuary. What you have seen…is but part of the elaborate web of shadowed intricacies we have been handling. For the safety of the students and the rest of Hart City, this _must_ be kept absolutely silent. You will not breathe a word, not even to each other, especially not to me, and you will try to forget about the whole incident. Do you understand?" He let his voice rise a little from its customary serenity; people seemed to deem that necessary for his question to be taken as such.

The two younger ones nodded immediately. He regretfully recalled his momentary lapse of composure when they first panted the news to him; he supposed that would cause some trauma, some…fear. Sanosuke frowned and mumbled something about "Kaoru-san". The new boy simply looked thoughtful. Saitou lifted an eyebrow slightly; he would keep an eye on this one. "Kaoru is fine, Sanosuke. Megumi-san will have her back on her feet in no time. Now, questions?"

Again, Yahiko and…Misao? shook their heads quickly, and this time Sanosuke seemed satisfied, even a little pale. This Kenshin, though, simply looked directly into Saitou's eyes, pensive violet against cool amber. After a while, he appeared to smile, and shake his head as well. Saitou swallowed a disgruntled sigh; maybe two eyes would be all too few to keep on him.

"Good. Assembly begins in fifteen minutes; I suggest you clean yourselves up a little before classes. Kenshin, you will be placed with the seniors. Follow Kaoru's class schedule; if you are unsatisfied, you will see me at the end of the day to alter and confirm it for the rest of the term. Inform each of the teachers of Kaoru's…indisposition. Misao, you are in the second form. Megumi will escort you to the dorms and get you settled in the classes, so wait for her outside the office. Sanosuke, Yahiko, you know what you have to do. You are all excused. Megumi," he added into the intercom, "come in. Make Kaoru's morning announcement, would you?" He kept his eyes on them until the last corner of the navy blue trousers vanished out the door. Then he took a deep breath and picked up the phone.

* * *

All that day, Kenshin wandered from class to class with hardly a word. Lessons, quite minimal on the first day of the term, registered mechanically in his brain; a smile and a brief, polite answer dealt with most questions, and commenced construction on his reputation as a shy, well-mannered wimp. At lunch, the others chattered as if there were no cares in the world except themselves, their terrible teachers and their food. Misao would be spending the as much of the day as she could with the two; Sanosuke would have to go home that afternoon, Yahiko a little later. After that she would be back on Kenshin's head. He knew, and was resigned.

As the flood of 'day-students' streamed pass him towards the gates, he made his way slowly to his locker, fumbling for the little piece of paper, perfunctorily memorising the combination numbers on it. He placed the belongings he would not be needing that night into the small space, taking care to be neat. And then he stood staring unseeingly at his locker door and let his mind roam free in the archive of the events of the day.

Suddenly, he looked up and found himself directly outside the entrance of the school's hospital ward. He smiled wryly to himself; even with twelve years of harsh discipline, his feet still had the tendency to start walking without bothering to inform the brain. Well then…nothing wrong with visiting a sick classmate, eh? In spite of himself, he glanced in both directions guiltily before stepping off the corridor into the room.

It was a large chamber, lined on both sides with low beds in individually screened cubicles. The huge windows in the far wall, covered with heavy curtains, let in little light. Most of the screens were drawn back; only a handful of the school's students still occupied the dormitories, or the ward. One, on the left close to where he stood, hung half-open, and he could see a boy about Yahiko's age engrossed in a book. He tiptoed quietly pass it, towards another cubicle at the very end of the room, with screens drawn tightly around it. A soft light illuminated the inside; he could see Kaoru's silhouette moving slightly. She was alright; good. She was awake; he hesitated again.

He ground his teeth. Before his feet could get the chance to walk in two directions at once and make a commotion directly under the 'Keep Silent' sign, he fairly hopped over the last few paces and cleared his throat. "Kaoru-dono? Can I come in?"

The springs of the bed creaked faintly as the girl shifted. "Of course," called a soft, clear voice. Kenshin parted the screens tentatively and poked his head in. Kaoru, bandages and all, smiled up at him quite radiantly; her sapphire eyes twinkled with pleasant surprise, and the ponytail had been let loose about her shoulders. "Have a seat." She gestured at the low-backed chair beside the bed. He returned the smile, sincerely for the first time that day, and took the chair.

"Nice of you to come visit. You are…?"

He jumped up again, his smile turning apologetic. "Kenshin, I am Himura Kenshin. I'm…I'm new, you haven't seen me before…"

"You're right, I haven't." Kaoru laughed; a vibrant sound, full of cheer. Kenshin consciously felt himself relaxing, enjoying this little impromptu chat. "I haven't seen you, but I have heard of you. You and your sister were the ones I was supposed to guide this morning?"

Kenshin's brain, as it had done for the lessons, automatically took note: she had perfect recollection of the happenings before her injury, and she was well oriented with the time. Nothing serious, then. He nodded. "Yes, we were the ones. I'm sorry we caused you so much trouble. How does your head feel?"

Looking on Kamiya Kaoru's cheery grins and merry tone of voice, Kenshin might have thought that the situation wasn't nearly as dangerous as Saitou-san had implied. Except…except that Saitou-san didn't seem like the sort to exaggerate, or dramatise.

Except that he, Kenshin, knew better than that.


	3. Night

**III**

_

* * *

Bye, weasel. _

Her new friends were gone, and dusk was settling. Misao sighed softly, ever so slightly stirring the evening air, and flopped into one of the stone benches dotting the side of the small field. All in all, it would count as a fair day, for the average new kid at school; besides being mistaken for a lost elementary school student, everything else had gone pretty well. That was, if you discounted the rather unusual incident of the morning.

Gazing out against the field, growing orange in the flaming sun, Misao's eyes picked out the few birds still pecking in the grass, while her mind turned uneasily towards her eventful start in this new school. The first thought that arrived, however, was irrationally irritable: _Well nigh a hundred miles, we've come. No one even knows us here. But it just so happens we land smack in the middle of a shadow den…coincidence? Yeah right, more like pure dumb un-luck._

Her forcefully kicking foot caught a small white stone, sending it flying into the grass. It turned orange, and she was yet again forcefully reminded that night was approaching fast. She grumbled grouchily to herself. Yes, yes, she knew she was to go find her brother, but instead she shrunk deeper into the hard, polished rock, if that was possible.

Her cheeks reddened slightly at the thought of her…performance…that morning; she had really, actually been frightened when Saitou-san's eyes suddenly flashed yellow and a strand of his hair fell out of place. Ridiculous, but that was the truth. Hardly something to be proud of. She desperately hoped Kenshin hadn't noticed.

Besides, Kenshin probably wanted some time alone, too. Unconsciously, Misao's lips curved into a small, wry smile as she thought about her idiot of a brother. That morning had been hard on her, but it would be harder yet on him; he had tried so very hard. He knew something was wrong with the place, maybe more than what Saitou had suggested, judging by the way he had reacted in the office. He would want time to figure things out a little, on his own. Best to leave him be.

Boy, would he be surprised to _not_ find her sitting on his head.

"Boy, am I surprised to not find you sitting on my head."

Misao almost stuck her brother full of kunais before she recognised him in the dim light. "Kenshin! Great almighty lords above, you know better than to sneak up on me like that! Or maybe you don't. One never knows, with you."

Kenshin merely smiled and took a seat. "No, one does not. You had fun today?"

"I'm not a kid, brother dear. You ask that in the way one would ask, 'have you had your candy today, baby? Where's your milk bottle?' How nice."

"Hey, I was just asking." Kenshin shrugged. Then his expresion suddenly grew serious, concerned…big-brotherly. "Allow me to rephrase, then. Are you alright?"

It was Misao's turn to shrug. "I guess. No big deal. If we could deal with Haven, we can deal with being two ordinary students in White Hart. Can't be very much different, right? It isn't like we're new to this, or anything," she reeled off cheerily, trying as best she could to sound her usual, hyperactive self. But when one didn't have parents, one's brother would know one best.

"Hmm. I see. You're worried." Kenshin offered a smile. "But I do agree with what you said. I do, really. Nothing out of the norm in our life, here, though hardly what we expected to find, and so nothing to worry about. I'll try to scout around for someplace else, someplace that's actually normal beneath the surface…" He chuckled somewhat guiltily. "But it's a bit early to uproot again, don't you think?"

Misao jumped and narrowed her eyes at him. "A whole lot too early, I'd say. I like it here." She flashed a wide grin and swung her legs, breathing deeply of the cool twilight air. "I don't want to move again, Ken. Not yet, at any rate. We can make it here. And we will, if it kills us."

How Kenshin wished a deep sense of foreboding didn't rise suddenly at his sister's words. But it was there, and what he could do was to prepare for what was to come. "Come on, it's getting dark. We'd better get ready for dinner and bed, or Saitou-san will be after our heads."

* * *

So apparently the school had two more boarding students. 

From the rooftop of a tall building not far off, a slim figure gazed thoughtfully down at the pair of tiny specks just leaving the field area. He stood as one perfectly at ease with the precarious position, coat blowing out slightly in the breeze, faintly silhouetted against the darkening purplish sky. Another moment, heavy with consideration, and he was gone.

His instinct told him to watch and wait. He was puzzled, but he never questioned instinct. He would not move tonight.

* * *

**Author's note:** Sorry this is short...but still. R & R please...thank you! 


	4. Settled or not?

**IV**

* * *

Saitou replaced the receiver back onto the telephone, soundlessly by habit. Still no answer. A distracted frown creased his features. There was nothing he could do now; if it was done, it was done. He could probably count on his counterpart to act according to the situation anyway, but Saitou Hajime decidedly disliked relying on anyone but himself.

A gong rang distantly from somewhere else in the school, and the little silver bell on his table gave a tiny tinkle in answer. Dinner. He took off his glasses and carefully massaged his temples; he would forgo dinner tonight. He couldn't be farther away from hungry.

"What, not eating tonight? Forsaken the 'healthy diet' theory, then?"

With his back to the window, Saitou gave no sign of surprise, but his lips twitched briefly in relief. Meticulously replacing the fine silver-framed lenses on his nose, he swivelled his chair around to face the slender figure seated casually in the window, silhouetted in the early moonlight. "Did you?"

"No."

A deep sigh, most uncharacteristic, very nearly escaped the confines of his chest. "That's…good. You saw them, then?"

"Yes."

"I will keep a close watch on the two, for now. I believe the girl will not pose much of a problem, but the boy…" He unconsciously tapped his glasses on the polished wooden armrest of his chair. "Kenshin, I believe. Himura Kenshin. An unassuming name," he mused. "And if Sano and Yahiko get entangled in this, we might as well abandon operation. We put everything on hold for the moment, yes?"

"Whatever you say."

"Good. Proceed with investigations and surveillance, report back as usual."

"Mm."

"And, Aoshi…"

The figure paused, half-turned to go.

"Be careful."

* * *

Dinner had been terrible. The food was excellent, like everything else provided in the school; but unfortunately, the same couldn't be said of the company.

There had been two long tables in grand total in the huge dining hall, probably designed for a more worthy use in the institution's past days of glory. One had been for the teachers, and had been deathly quiet. The dozen or so men and women who lived in the school seemed to be determinedly interested in food and nothing but food; vaguely unsettling, reckoned Kenshin, in comparison with their easy banter with their students during the day.

But then, that was nothing compared to the fragments of conversations thrown back and forth at the students' table. Bits and pieces of various wide-ranging discussions evidently continued from some other time left both him and Misao rather lost, but he thought he preferred that to the silent pauses in between, in which the pair of them tried uneasily to down their food amid the stares from two scores of curious eyes.

They ate as much as they could stand, as quickly as they could manage, and excused themselves as politely as haste allowed. At least, Kenshin did. Misao ran as soon as her brother got to his feet.

"I change my mind. I stand corrected. I beg forgiveness. Let's move. Now!"

They were standing some distance from the dining hall, along the corridor where the lockers were. Kenshin appeared to ignore his sister, simply giving her occasional prods to keep her walking. In retrospect, he thought he should have known better. Misao exploded.

"KEN! You donkey's behind…"

"Shh!" Kenshin placed a hand over her mouth, his brow darkened by a rare frown. "Misao, this is no place to fool around. I thought we established that this morning. Do us both a favour and keep your wits with you, please? And if you're going to change your mind about moving twice a day, we might as well just go back to the Haven."

Misao shook her head frantically, her dark blue eyes wide and glimmering in the deepening night. Despite having known him her whole life, there were still only so many times she had seen him actually angry. And this was not one of them. She tried to swallow meekly. "Nmm. Mm schmmy."

Kenshin let go and arched an eyebrow at her. She repeated, "No. I'm sorry."

"Yes, and so am I." His smile did seem apologetic. "But keep it in mind, alright?"

She simply nodded quickly. There was nothing more to say.

"Right." Kenshin looked around thoughtfully. They were a few yards away from the office, and the staircase wound away to their right. He nodded. "I trust you won't want to go to bed just yet." Not a question; a statement of fact. "Want to pay Kaoru a visit?"

"And you are going where?"

"Out." His voice dropped a little lower, and his violet eyes flickered towards the steady line of rooftops dark against the sky. "A little basic scouting is in order, I think. But I don't want both of us to vanish at once on our first night; you need to cover for me. And," he forestalled her protests with a hand, "and I think you're going to like Kaoru. Trust me."

Misao opened her mouth; he hurriedly continued, "Next time you get to come, of course. As usual." His kid sister accompanied her smile with a little roll of the eyes, but he could overlook that.

Taking another quick glance down the hallway, he gestured towards the stairs. "One floor up, Misao. Turn left at the head of the stairs, continue past three sets of double doors. The fourth has some sort of medical sign on it. Last bed on the right. Ask before you barge in. Okay?" Misao nodded once; he continued, "I will call when I get back. Go to the spot where Kaoru was found this morning, and look up."

She nodded again. Kenshin sensed some amusement, and he wasn't amused. "Stay alert, girl."

He supposed he ought to be satisfied. He turned and strode towards the dormitories; there were some items he would need from his luggage. But two steps from the exit, he hesitated, and called one last caution over his shoulder.

"Don't trust anyone."


	5. Shadow in the Night

**V

* * *

**

"Don't trust _aaa_-nyone," muttered Misao. "Yeah, easy for him to say. Why do I have to be stuck here while he goes jaunting all over the place?"

About a foot above her eye level was an elaborate sign worked in silver, nailed onto the dark oaken doors of the hospital ward. She stood staring at it, rocking back and forth on the balls of her feet, grumbling soundlessly to herself.

The night was deepening, and it was getting cold. The others had probably filed back to the dorms long ago; Misao estimated that she'd been there for an hour or so. "And Kaoru's probably asleep, too. No need to go in, right?" The thing, she thought, was that she didn't know why she didn't want to go 'pay Kaoru a visit'. Just thinking of that made her squirm again, like she had on the way up the stairs. And she didn't know what she did want to do, either; sometimes, determining that helped. She exhaled sharply, mussed her hair and started pacing the ten feet of corridor in front of the doors.

_Idiot_. She froze in midstep and narrowed her eyes at herself. _What's wrong with stepping in and having a little chat with her? Asleep? For goodness sake, it's half past eight, nine at best. Ken might be back any minute, so quit being an idiot and go!_

And so she stepped resolutely towards the doors and laid her hand on the knob. It turned, and the doors swung slowly—very slowly—inwards.

And a mummy lunged out at her. "_Yaaaaaaaaaa_!"

* * *

_Dang._

Crouching low on one of the red-tiled rooftops on the outskirts of town, Kenshin firmly suppressed a hiss of irritation. The first half-hour or so had been fairly routine, a swift, solitary tour around the neighbourhood. Then he'd caught sight of a shadow, barely visible amidst the forest of chimneys. And he'd been after it ever since…at least, until he lost it some five minutes ago.

Unconsciously he eased the sword at his hip. Tonight he was in full traditional attire, complete with the gi, hakama and flimsy sandals. Sure the whole costume was…outstanding…in such a place and time, but he felt comfortable in it, and it was a disguise. He'd even put his hair in a topknot; his usual ponytail was less showy, but now his hair was out of his way.

So. He wasn't exactly sure whether the shadow had seen him, too; it might have been just another nocturnal patroller of chimney pots. Ironic that he'd thought of this as a safe town. Taking a deep, calming breath, he prepared to once again strain his eyes against the dark of night.

Ah, yes; he smiled, briefly. A light, silent tap of his foot sent him forward, across a gap between the buildings; a dimly lighted street ran beneath. He ran fast, faster than he normally would, as fast as stealth would allow, for his quarry would have to be good for him to have lost it once before. He would not take the chance again.

Over, under, taking three chimneys at a time, the two shrouded figures sped through the night. Kenshin could see that the one he pursued wore a coat of some sort, flashing white under what light the crescent moon would give. Too tall to be a woman, he deemed; too familiar with the route over the uneven roofs to be chance visitor; too skilled to be any other than a trained martial artist—a ninja, he thought. He frowned, and put on more speed.

As suddenly as he had reappeared, the figure stopped dead—literally freezing in his tracks. Kenshin changed course immediately and almost ran smack into a chimney. Dodging it by a hair, he slipped behind it instead. He listened.

And he listened. After fifteen minutes of listening intently to the cicadas he hated so much, slowly, carefully, he moved his head to see.

There was no one where the figure had stood, not even a stir in the air to mark his movement. But there was a flash, a gleam of metal—and all of a sudden Kenshin had an acute pain in his shoulder, accompanied with a flow of warm liquid that dripped darkly down his arm.

A dart. Kenshin swore softly as he yanked it out and checked it for poison; well of course, it was poisoned. And there was still not so much as a whiff of the shadow he had chased across town. He went right on swearing softly while he tore a strip from his sleeve and bound the wound as best he could, and began the long, perilous journey back.

* * *

"What was that?"

"A…bird?" Kaoru suggested. Misao had, after getting over her initial shock with the head bandage, hesitatingly agreed to step into the ward with her. Now the girl was pressed against the window, straining her ears for a commonplace sound. "Misao…"

"There it is again!"

"It's just a bird, Misao-chan."

Unexpectedly Misao turned on her in agitation. "There are no such birds in this part of the world, Kaoru. That's my brother, and he's hurt." Kaoru barely had time to slide her feet into her slippers before the girl disappeared down the corridor.

By the time she arrived outside the dorms some moments behind her new friend, she was panting, and her pajamas were spotted with dark, damp patches. Misao was on her knees beside something that looked like a character out of a historical drama…but yes, it had red hair. She took a step closer.

Kenshin was stretched out on the ground, apparently unconscious; his shirt, or whatever it was, had been roughly torn at the left shoulder. Misao searched the ground around her with her fingers, unwilling to leave her brother's side. Finally they grasped a broad leaf, newly fallen, and she spread it out on the ground. A metallic object held in her hand drew a line across the blade, obviously black even in the night, and the black spread rapidly throughout the leaf. She gave a hiss of sharply inhaled breath.

Muttering quickly under her breath, she circled a finger over a case of vials that Kaoru hadn't noticed before. The finger darted into the case and drew one out, deftly popping the cork. Kenshin was made to swallow a mouthful, as far as Kaoru could tell, and the rest of the contents were carefully poured over the wound. Then Misao sat and fiddled tensely with the bandage she held ready in her hands.

"Mi…Misao-chan? Is he okay?"

"Don't know yet." Misao didn't bother turning around; her voice trembled very slightly. "I don't…know yet."

Blood trickled out the corner of Kenshin's mouth.


	6. Friend or foe?

**VI **

**

* * *

**

Aoshi sank against one of the brick chimneys, not caring if the white of his coat turned to soot. He tried distractedly to regulate his breathing, his eyes quickly scanning the skyline for unwelcome eyes. His knees threatened to fold, and he slid to a seat on the rooftop.

With a finger he loosened the collar of his suit, and lifted his eyes to examine the stars. He hadn't meant to hurt the man. He didn't even know who he was. But after thirty minutes of running faster than he had in a long, long time, he had had no choice.

_Well, no use worrying about something over and done with,_ he thought firmly. Taking a last deep breath of the cool night air, he rested his forehead on his knees and listened to his own heartbeat. Once he thought they had slowed enough, he got shakily to his feet.

Where to? Standing on one of the highest points in Hart City, his gaze swept consideringly across the town. He would have to report to Saitou soon, with this new inhabitant of the night on the loose. But…not now. Not now. He headed west, towards home.

As the buildings, dark in the deepening night, marched past him, he felt the full impact of the night's events come home. He had very nearly been outrun; that was a first since his earliest childhood. His instinct had told him—quite definitely—not to cross swords with the mystery man while he was tired and out of breath. He had been forced to resort to poisoned darts to shake off the pursuit. Now, he was left shaking, and more exhausted than could be explained by the run. His eyes narrowed intently at the road before him.

To whatever eyes that lurked in the night, Aoshi looked as he always had—a solitary wanderer of the silent streets, exuding an air of cold danger to chill the very night. But tonight, for possibly the first time in his life, he felt…vulnerable.

* * *

"Get me inside."

Misao jumped. "Kenshin! You're alright? What happened—"

"Misao, please." Kenshin tried to lift his head. "Get me inside. Now."

"Okay, okay…"

_Wait._ "Wait," he whispered. "The case. Give me the case."

The case was brought; he groped inside with his eyes closed until his fingers found a small tube of clear, viscous liquid. With an effort he moved his hand towards his mouth, but he only got it halfway there. Someone—Misao, he supposed—took it out of his grasp, and he felt the contents being emptied down his throat. Taking a slow, painful breath, he swallowed.

Opening his eyes seemed to take even more effort than before. His sister was still hovering over him; he would have sighed if he had had the strength. "Inside," he mouthed. And that was it. His body would not, _could_ not respond to anything else, and felt nothing but a constant, numbing pain.

But there; breathing seemed to be easier, now that the correct antidote had been administered. At least he would not black out from suffocation again. He was somehow not surprised that Misao hadn't recognised the paralysis venom; she had had little practice, and had paid little attention to the lessons. Nothing to do now, though; nothing except to wait for the serum to work its magic.

By and by he judged himself healed enough to start talking. He opened his eyes. "Misao, you can put me down now."

They were on the back stairs of the boys' dorm, judging by the pale blue walls. A window showed that they were headed towards the second floor. Misao was trying very hard not to pant. "I'll rest here awhile, and then I'll walk, alright?" he smiled. His sister appeared quite pleased with the idea.

And then he noticed Kaoru; his breath caught in his throat, which was decidedly bad at this particular time. "Kaoru-dono? What…" he cast about for a better way to phrase the question. "Why are you here?" He turned with raised eyebrows to Misao. Unfortunately, she seemed quite as surprised as he was.

Kaoru looked taken aback. "I…I don't know," she stammered. "Misao looked so worried, I just followed to see if I could help."

"Now I remember." Misao was bright red, as far as he could tell in the dim light. "I knew she was there, but I didn't really notice, if you know what I mean. I was somewhat…preoccupied."

Kenshin sighed, and was glad to find that he could. "Never mind now. Top floor."

"_Top_ floor?"

He narrowed his eyes at her. "I said I'd walk."

"Yeah, like you can walk seven storeys on your own."

"Thank you for noticing." He grinned as widely as he could. She rolled her eyes.

The exercise, as he had intended, helped the blood circulation in his body. The same had happened as he'd run all the way back to school, spreading the venom with increased speed, but now helped the potent antidote reach the various parts of his body. By the time they reached the eighth floor, he was almost fully recovered. Weak, but mobile. He counted himself lucky, considering how close to death he'd come.

So now he had two main problems: how to deal with Kaoru; and how to escape Saitou's notice the next day.

He knew he had been too open with his expressions that morning; Saitou would have noticed, and taken steps. Steps like keeping a close eye on him. And if his suspicions that the man he had chased across town had connections with the 'syndicates' that Saitou had mentioned, it was all the more reason to stay low.

But first, Kaoru. She had seemed to be a nice, open girl; in other words, normal. But then anyone who could take a knockout blow on the head and not say a word about it could hardly _be_ normal. There was always the possibility that she'd been brainwashed by Saitou, but there was also the possibility that she had not. Better safe than sorry, he reckoned.

Who was she? Who was Saitou, for that matter? Could he, he wondered, follow his own advice and trust no-one?


	7. To solve a mystery

**VII

* * *

**

_Thump-thump. Thump-thump. _

As the silence stretched on, Kenshin strained his ears to catch the faint sound of Kaoru's heartbeat; from what he could hear, his sister had followed suit. The dual beats had sped up considerably, and although the girl's face was hidden in shadow, he could just make out the fingers lying in her lap. They were tense, very much so. He shifted his focus to the sound of her breath.

There it was: the hiss of sharply inhaled breath. The top part of Kaoru's wooden sword clattered to the floor, and what light the night would yield fell full upon her face, where the blue eyes were wide with surprise. Kenshin followed up his sword's upward blocking motion with a smart downward tap. As the girl crumpled giddily before him, Misao calmly plucked the rest of the bokken out of her hands, and settled down beside her.

"Never learn, do they." His kid sister—the_ kid _that she was—seemed quite excited with the whole affair. Sheathing his sword, he shook his head at her.

"As do you, my dear sister. It's bad enough that you don't notice a _big girl_ like her hanging around on a night like this, you don't even notice the girl has a _sword_. I ought to send you right back to Shishou, at this rate."

Misao paled, swallowed and mumbled something that sounded very much like an apology. Kenshin turned his attention to Kaoru—and was rather taken aback to see fear in her eyes. It reminded him of…something he would much rather forget. "I'm terribly sorry about this, Kaoru-dono. But, well, couldn't you tell us what's going on before you try that again?"

She stared back at him; if anything, the fear in her eyes grew more potent. He sighed, and shifted a little; the sudden movement, wielding the weight of the sword, had hurt more, and cost more, than he showed. "Let's make a few things clear here. I am not holding you…um, prisoner, or hostage, or anything. I was ruthlessly attacked earlier this evening, and moments ago _you _attempted an assault with no provocation; in fact, for no reason that I can see. You are in no position to demand an explanation from me, but if not for the fact that it is our lives that are at stake, I would offer you one anyway. All I ask is for you to first shed some light on this…situation…and I will tell you what you want to know—within the limits of reason, of course. What say you?"

There was no change in her expression. Misao grunted irritably and rapped the girl on the head with her knuckles. "For goodness sake, girl! You have no choice. He might not want to detain you, but I will if I have to. You're working with Saitou, aren't you?"

"What?" Kaoru jumped, visibly shaken. "Of…of course not. Whyever would I be working with Saitou-san?"

Misao waved a hand at her dismissively. "Of course you are. My, you could well be the worse liar I've ever seen. What's Saitou doing that needs you to kill two perfectly innocent new classmates?"

Kaoru blinked at her. "Kill?"

Unexpectedly, Kenshin burst out laughing. "There's a terrible liar for you. Misao, you can't kill with a wooden sword; not unless you're a whole lot better than…well, that." He getsured apologetically in Kaoru's direction. "No, I don't think Kaoru-dono actually intended to _kill_ anyone. But then again," he added mildly, "she was probably trying to buy herself enough time to get Saitou here—after which all bets are off, if my suspicions are proved correct. Not very nice to imagine."

His sister shrugged, a slight frown flickering on her brow. "Same difference. The thing is…she could have gotten Saitou before I even noticed her. Why now?"

Kenshin directed his gaze at Kaoru. "I think Kaoru can answer that on her own."

* * *

The one arrival that night at the Hart City Airport had been delayed, and Hiko Seijuro found the building even more deserted than he had expected. The rest of the passengers of the flight yawned cavernously at their luggage; he thought he might hit the sack, as well. Shouldering his pack, he pulled his cape closer around him and stepped out into the night air.

He walked. The first mile or so around the airport contained the city's commercial zone, and he was flanked by dark windows, barred doors and the occasional quiet pub. He raised his eyebrows in cool surprise; this was, strangely, a lot more to his liking than the garishly prosperous night life of the Haven. A swig from his hip-flask hid a small smile.

He took his time, travelling slowly, taking in every detail he could of the town he traversed. As far as he knew the hotel he was headed for was not far away—some half-hour's journey should suffice. The night was getting old; he would turn in as soon as he got himself settled. He would need the energy tomorrow; as much as he hated to admit it, tracking his idiot of a pupil would not be easy.

Hiko didn't know, precisely, why he had left the comforts of home on the outskirts of the Haven. He didn't know why he had suddenly decided to fly off to Hart City after Kenshin and his little sister; the boy had, in any case, left the nest years ago. But as he walked the empty streets of the city, he felt that his journey was justified. There was danger here, a danger residing silently within the peace and calm, a danger far different from that of the Haven; the boy had better be able to see it.

But then, seeing as how the boy was an idiot, he would, of course, need his Shishou to save his arse. As usual.


	8. Spark

**VIII**

**

* * *

**

Megumi winced a little as her employer hurled what luggage he had into the trunk of the waiting car; the car creaked alarmingly. Saitou-san had never developed a liking for surprises. But there; he would be away for two days, at least—two more days she could be sure of staying alive.

Not that she had any significant role in the workings of Hart City. It wasn't even particularly life-threatening. Takani Megumi, Head of the Infirmary Staff at White Hart High, had accepted her job knowing full well what it entailed, for she was made of stern stuff. She had not once regretted her decision. But all that stern stuff did not keep her from shivering just a little, then.

She stood for a while longer at the porch, though the tail-lights of Saitou-san's car had given their last glimmer long ago. It was a clear, cold night; she tried to heave a sigh of relief, to blow away in one huge breath the lingering sense of imminent danger. However…she did sigh, but it was not for relief. Saitou was gone, and the school loomed all the more darkly because of it. White Hart High harboured a danger of its own, and Megumi had not Saitou's strength to counter it.

Still, she had a job to do. An 'important phone-call', and then her customary rounds of the ward and the dormitories. She padded her way along the silent corridors that led to Saitou-san's office, for she would be occupying it for the duration of his…business trip. She picked up the telephone and dialled.

"Saitou," it said.

Megumi jumped, and blinked a little. Aoshi had been waiting for the call, and he had installed caller identification somewhere along the line. So many more unreasonable reasons to dislike the man.

"No, this is Megumi." She sounded irritable; she didn't much mind. "Saitou-san would like you to know that he will be out of town for the next two or three days. Surveillance as usual, all other operations suspended. Be alert for sudden changes in plan. Report back on his return. That is all."

There was a thoughtful pause at the other end of the line. "He has left already? And you have no idea where or why he has gone, except that it was urgent and definitely not on school business."

It was not a question. Megumi scowled hard. "Yes. Have a good night, Shinomori-san."

And still he managed to hang up before she did.

* * *

Aoshi sat and stared at the phone. It didn't do anything else remarkable, although he would probably not have noticed if it did. Saitou had been called out of town.

_It might be nothing, really._

His instincts snorted at him. _Fine, then._ He got up and stalked through his penthouse apartment, yet unlit in the deep night, treading silently the marble floors that were cold to his feet. It was a still night; moonlight drifted like fine mist through the gossamer curtains and revealed in surreal lucidity the spartan nakedness of the house did not much look like a home. Aoshi had not spent much on furniture.

_Right._ He levelled a flat stare at the bathroom door. Five minutes for a quick shower, he calculated, would possibly not be too much to ask. He would have very much enjoyed an hour or two brooding about the mysterious stalker. But he had work to do.

Five minutes later he was dripping his way across the apartment. "Shiro."

"Okashira," the phone replied.

There was a painful pause. "This is a house phone, Shiro."

"Y-Yes sir. Sorry sir."

"It seems our Shogun has left town." Aoshi could not help frowning at that. "Check the birds, from seven till midnight this evening, with focus on nine till ten domestics. Verify all aliases. Track and attach immediately, and report back to me."

"Yes sir."

_Strange._ He replaced the phone and headed for his study. _Why?_ There had been no sign of any irregularity in the operations. As a rule the watchers acquired more information than any other part of a syndicate, for intelligence was their trade, and observation their way of life. It was not a matter of whim that Aoshi had chosen that position for himself. And it was at times like these that his choice should bear fruit.

Slipping easily into the one chair in the apartment, he retraced his memory to every conversation he had had with Saitou in the recent weeks, his fingers stroking the folder where all his notes were kept. _But no. There was, for one thing, no trace of an imminent journey either on his person or in the room, just about an hour before departure. His reactions indicated nothing of change. So unless he knew of this night almost a year beforehand…I believe Saitou himself was caught by surprise. _In which case he rather pitied the staff and the furniture that had been in the vicinity.

Aoshi watched the moon and mused, following its slow descent with unseeing eyes. He would pay the school a visit tomorrow; yes, in broad daylight. He was a man who did not necessarily look the same from day to day. A good look at the room might possibly yield as much as an explanation from the Shogun himself.

And that dratted Takani woman might be less inclined to hang up on him if he showed up in the flesh.

* * *

It was morning, an hour or so after dawn. Kenshin opened his eyes to the sleepy sunlight and smiled; he had not expected to get any sleep that night. But then Misao had most stubbornly insisted on scouting the grounds by herself, saying (quite rightly) that he was in no shape to run around, and that she _was_ a fully trained ninja. So he had sat and stared amiably at Kaoru for another hour or two, after which the girl had broken down and confessed that she had orders to report anything suspicious to Saitou. A one-man debate about the definition of 'suspicious' promptly ensued. Misao had not been amused when she returned, for it was a skill that Kenshin had picked up through his years of babysitting.

All's well that ends well, he thought; Saitou had apparently left school on urgent business, and Kaoru had laughingly agreed to press no further charges. She was, after all, as she seemed to be; a schoolgirl, who had seen nothing of the darker world beyond the barest fringes. Saitou seemed to have a certain tie to her—on a personal level—but she would not be more than a syndicate initiate who had been set to keep watch on the school. On another note, he himself seemed to be perfectly healthy, albeit sore all over and just a little wobbly in the legs. Kenshin hummed as he dressed and went down to breakfast.

There was a rather different air to the school that day, though he could not tell exactly what. He blinked to himself as he walked, idly pondering the change that did not seem to be a threat; it was a beautiful morning altogether, and he smiled to think of a nice early breakfast where the food was good and the company nonexistent. Bliss.

He rounded the end of the block into a long, straight corridor, where the offices were. Two people were walking towards him. He might have stopped dead in his tracks right then, or his eyes might have widened, or he might have gaped and called out. But all he did, as he bowed to Megumi-san in passing, was to murmur, "Misao is here."

Aoshi bent his head slightly in reply.

Breakfast did not taste very good, after all, although the chef could hardly be held to blame. The dining hall was indeed quite empty, for it would be another hour or so before the average student rubbed sleep from his eyes; even his own sister would not be up and about for a while. Kenshin wandered close to the school gates and chose a tree to sit in. Aoshi would be passing here before the hour was up.

It was more than a little unnerving that Shinomori Aoshi was in Hart City, even in White Hart High itself. Kenshin did not _know_ the man, in any true sense; he had not so much as gotten a close look before today. But he knew _of_ the man, as every fighter in the Haven knew of him—Commander of the renowned Oniwabanshu.

He had seldom been in plain sight, except at key moments when the battle raged fiercest, for the Oniwabanshu was a vastly efficient network of espionage. Kenshin knew him by sight because he had once glimpsed the man upon the battlements of the Great Sanctuary. Misao, however, was another matter—

"I though I might find you here."

"You are fast," smiled Kenshin. "I didn't expect you for another half hour or so."

"I had just finished my business when we met." Aoshi narrowed his eyes. "You were the one who chased me halfway across town last night."

Kenshin nodded. "You were the one who nearly killed me. Strange how much one's dressing can affect one's looks."

Aoshi was dressed in street clothing—faded jeans, tee shirt, sports jacket, sneakers. A baseball cap was pulled low over gelled hair and a pair of glasses that could not veil the keenness of his glance. It was a nondescript ensemble of blues, browns and blacks, designed never to leave a clear impression in the mind. He slouched, and he shuffled. He did not at all look like one of the few elites of the world of war. Now he shrugged. "I agree."

"Did you see Misao?"

"If I had I would be miles out of the city by now."

"True," Kenshin laughed, "and so would we. You are here on business?"

Aoshi shot him a sidelong glance. "Business, yes."

Kenshin thought it over. "Is it anything I should know of?" Aoshi raised his eyebrows, ever so slightly. "I only want my sister to be safe."

He watched as his companion stood up on the branch. He was tall, much taller than himself. And his eyes were distant, in thought. Then he nodded. "Perhaps," he murmured, half to himself. "There may be a time when your sword is needed again. But now I should go." He roused himself.

"You are a different man than what I have heard of, Battousai. We will meet again."

The violet eyes glimmered faintly in the sun, following a tall, thin man as he slouched and shuffled down the street. Perhaps every city in the world was like the Haven, in its own way. Perhaps he could never run away.


End file.
